


Dirty Blues

by Fuil_agus_deora



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Connor’s a mess, Drinking, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, No Androids, Red Ice is still a thing though, References to Depression, Smoking, Someone help this boy please, There’s a whole lotta music, everyone is human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-07-30 18:44:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuil_agus_deora/pseuds/Fuil_agus_deora
Summary: “I’m full of surprises,” the officer grinned. “See you there?”Markus could feel his face heat up, and he nodded in return. “Yeah, see you there.”~In which Markus is part of a band and is late for a gig, speeding on the highway. An officer pulls him over and after a bit of questioning, lets him go.Markus never expected him to actually show up.He never expected their relationship to turn out this way.





	Dirty Blues

“Shit!”

Markus stepped down hard on the gas, his hands gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He was late. His bandmates, mainly North, were going to be pissed at him being late to the venue. Hell, he was pissed at himself. He didn't care if he was speeding on the highway, he just needed to get to his goddamn location. 

He knew that sirens were going to tail him. He pulled over with a frustrated groan. He rolled down his window, watching the officer approach from the side mirror. 

"Sir?" Markus was suddenly confronted with soft, brown doe-eyes. "You're aware that you were going 62 in a 40 mile zone, right?"

"Uh, yes..." He replied, trying to be as patient as possible given the situation. 

The officer pursed his lips, as if he was thinking about something. "Why were you in a rush?"

"Gig."

"May I check your trunk?"

The driver nodded, tapping his fingers against the wheel. He glanced at the mirror as the officer opened the trunk, discovering a guitar case. He opened the case and inspected it for a minute before closing the case. He then closed the trunk and walked back to Markus.

"Nice guitar. Sorry, the department have been pulling over cars with Red Ice stashed away."

"It's fine. I understand." 

"So, where's this gig?" The officer asked, thumbs hooked in his belt. 

"Magic Stick. It starts at eight-thirty. My band's a regular there."

"Ah, okay." The man unhooked his thumbs and pulled out a notepad and pen. "What's your name?"

"Markus Manfred." He told him. 

"You're a lucky man, Markus. I'm deciding not to give you a ticket. However, if you speed again, ticket. Got it?" 

Markus smiled slightly and watched as he wrote his name and license plate number on paper. "Got it." 

"Great." He put the pad and pen away. "I might see your band at the Magic Stick tonight."

"You don't strike me as someone who enjoys rock music." 

“I’m full of surprises,” the officer grinned. “See you there?”

Markus could feel his face heat up, and he nodded in return. “Yeah, see you there.”

The nameless officer got back into his police cruiser and Markus started his car, integrating with the others on the highway.

  


  


The hard case felt heavy in his hands as he entered the venue. His bandmates were already setting up.

Simon lifted his head up from tuning his guitar, spotting his friend. "Guys, Markus is here."

North rushed out from backstage, holding her bass. “Where the fuck have you been?!" She demanded loudly, clearly angry. 

"Cool down, I was pulled over on the highway. No big deal. I'm sorry." Markus countered, walking towards the stage. 

"No big deal?" She looked at Simon and Josh, who seemed to be neutral. They knew that not agreeing with North would make this even messier, but Markus had a point.

"Yeah, seriously. Calm down, save the energy for the show." He got onto the platform and went backstage to take his guitar out. As he stepped back onto the stage with his instrument, North threatened to hit him with her bass guitar. 

After doing the sound check, the band waited backstage and had a couple of drinks. Markus eyed the clock. 

Eight-thirty.

It was time. 

Markus found himself in the light in front of the mic, his friends also on stage. He was previously nervous, but all his fright had disinagrated away. "For the returning folks, welcome back. For first-timers, we're Jericho." He glanced at his bandmates to see if they were ready. "Josh, hit it."

The familiar harsh kick of the drums invaded his ears, and the rest of the band joined in, including him. North's bass could be felt from the speakers, and Simon's lead work added little intricacies. His voice was introduced to the wall of sound as they all played their part, yet remained in synch.

Pause. 

And the sound shattered silence once again. 

  


  


The show had ended and people were leaving. Markus was chatting with his friends, discussing tonight and joking around as they got ready to leave. While Carl was doing okay, he wished he was here, and he knew that Carl wanted to come; but he would be able to tell him all about tonight when he got home. He turned when he heard his name.

It was the officer from earlier. He almost didn't recognize him out of uniform.

"Oh hey," he smiled. He didn’t see him in the small crowd, but he suspected that he must’ve been hanging out in the back of the room. "Like the performance?"

The man ran his fingers through his hair, beaming. "Yeah, it was fun. You guys did a good job." 

"Who's this, Markus?" Josh asked. Simon and North were curious as well, trying to figure out who the hell this stranger, who seemed to know their lead singer, was.

"This is... Uh..." Markus snapped his fingers a couple times. "I don't think you've ever told me your name."

"Connor." The doe-eyed man responded, straightening his jacket. 

"This is Connor. He's the officer who pulled me over for speeding today."

North glanced at Connor, then Markus, then Connor again. Her expression could only be described as mischievous, a playful smirk tugging on her lips. “You know, Markus... You did tell me that you were pulled over today, but you never told me the cop was cute.” 

Markus bit the inside of his cheek and Connor cleared his throat quietly as his friends laughed. 

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Connor.” Josh said. “Glad you enjoyed the show.”

“Yeah, we gotta pack and get home. We all have work or class.” Simon added, wrapping up some cords that were in his hands. “Hope to see you around more though.”

"Markus, you should take Connor to our grub hub for dinner." North suggested. 

Markus shrugged. "I mean, it's up to him. Do you want to go eat?"

Connor looked hesitant. "Uh, sure? I was thinking you could come over and we could order takeout instead."

"We can do that." Markus agreed, ignoring North's teasing look. "Just let me put my stuff away and then we can go."

Connor nodded and waited near the door. “I can text you the address.” He told Markus as the other man neared the entrance with his guitar case.

“Sounds good. I’ll just put this in the trunk. I'll see you guys later.” Markus told his friends. He gave Connor his number and went to his car, putting away his things. His phone dinged, and he glanced at the screen to see an address.

  


  


Markus parked in the driveway of the small, one-floor home. He stopped the vehicle and got out, closing the car door afterwards.

The yard was relatively clean, although it was desperate for a cut. The grass was not quite long, but was getting there. He figured that he was too busy with his job to mow his lawn. 

The musician approached the door, climbing up the steps. He pressed the doorbell, and after a couple of seconds, the door opened to reveal Connor who invited him in.

The first thing that Markus noticed were the shelves of vinyls, CDs, and cassettes that were on display in the living room.

Damn.

The second thing he noticed was that there were no pictures of Connor’s family as far as he could tell. The atmosphere of this home was a whole different vibe compared to the large, colorful mansion that he and Carl lived in. 

“So, any ideas?”

Markus was forced out of observation. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Takeout.” Connor repeated. “Any ideas?”

“Uh, not sure. Just pick whatever.” 

The host nodded and took out his phone. “Thai then?”

“Sure. Vegetable Pad Thai please.”

Markus’ mismatched eyes travelled to Connor’s left arm as Connor dialed a number and turned away, his back facing him. Crimson roses, cerulean plumerias, and wicked thorns adorned his entire limb from the shoulder to his wrist.

He was in awe at the complexity of the ink. 

Connor ended the call and turned back around. “You know, you can take off your jacket and make yourself comfortable.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” He quickly took off his jacket and hung it up on the coat hanger. “Your sleeve tattoo is beautiful, by the way.”

He swore he saw Connor blush. “Uh, thanks. It was just inspired by a family friend’s garden.” Connor slipped his phone back into his pocket. “The food should be here pretty soon. Want anything to drink? I’ve got beer in the fridge.”

“A beer’s fine.” He sat down on the sofa as Connor went into the kitchen, coming back out with two beer bottles, one in each hand. He handed one to Markus and sat down.

The food arrived, and the two men dug in, chatting as they ate. After finishing and cleaning up, Connor decided to put a record on. “You know Bambara?”

Markus leaned back on the sofa. “No, actually. Never heard of them.”

“It’s a good band to get stoned to.” Connor said, rather casually. 

Everyone had vices, regardless of their lifestyle. Still, he hadn’t taken Connor for a smoker. Usually, Markus was able to read a person correctly, but Connor was an exception. He would be lying if he said that the man wasn’t intriguing. “You smoke weed?”

“A little.” He replied, guiding the needle to the vinyl and turning up the volume. “For anxiety. As long as it doesn’t interfere with work, I’ll be fine.”

Markus watched as Connor opened a drawer on one of the end tables and took out a small sandwich bag and lighter, sitting back down. The music was already playing.

Connor noticed Markus watching and looked at him, opening the bag. “Want a joint?” He asked the taller man.

Markus shook his head. He personally didn’t like to smoke, but he knew people who did. He wasn’t unfamiliar. “Nah, thanks though. I’ll just stick to beer.” 

Connor nodded and rolled up a joint before lighting it. 

_Neon glowing in the night,_

_Red words: Red Tide,_

_Shining in your eyes._

Smoke twirled in the air, the smell of burning paper and pungent leaves invading the room. 

_A gunshot cracked,_

_And streaming blood fanned out around its kicking feet._

_Dead eyes staring,_

_Dead eyes staring._

Two bottles multiplied into four, and then eight. 

_“No one really leaves,”_

_Jimmy says through a cloud of smoke._

_”Where would he go anyway?”_

_The sun is up and the birds are pecking_

_Pecking at something lying in the dirt._

Markus was sitting on the floor, lying against the sofa as he listened. Connor was draped on the sofa on his back, his legs hanging over the arm of the furniture. His red eyes stared straight at the blank ceiling, like there was something up there, or perhaps a mural. He noticed the sparse speckles of small moles, or maybe they were freckles, that were scattered across Connor’s face, neck, and hands. 

_Let’s make something huge and full of rust,_

_Rebar ‘round my handsome bust._

_Broken glass like jagged flowers,_

_Climbing up a twisting tower._

Markus lost track of the time, zoning out and drunker than he intended to be. How the hell was he going to get home? Carl was going to lecture him on being responsible; he just knew it. The coffee table was almost covered in bottles and Connor was tired.

_The town kids smoke meth and drink_

_Behind the scrap metal heap._

_The guesthouse lies hidden..._

He would figure something out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I am not happy with this first chapter at all. To be fair, first chapter is always the hardest and it is my first DBH fic, but still.
> 
> It’ll get better. 
> 
>   
Hopefully.
> 
> Also, the songs are from Bambara’s Shadow On Everything. Dark Circles, Doe-Eyed Girl, Jose Tries To Leave, Monument, and Back Home.


End file.
